


Dead

by Coyote_the_Trickster



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Character Death, F/F, Grief/Mourning, High School, Implied Femslash, One-Sided Attraction, Suicide, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coyote_the_Trickster/pseuds/Coyote_the_Trickster
Summary: Emma tries to distract herself from the suicide of her friend.
Kudos: 2





	Dead

**Author's Note:**

> A little something I had in my head. Inspiration for a novella I hope to one day finish.
> 
> Criticism welcome.

Avery’s dead.

She’s dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

I stared blankly at Danny from across the table, my eyes drying while I watched his over-stretched body double over the table in front of me. Dead. What is death? Dead. I saw Avery just yesterday. Dead. We were supposed to go out this weekend. Dead.

My focus continued to breakdown, my mind obsessing over the news I had heard earlier today. I stared blankly at the movement of Danny’s hand, hypnotized by the way his pencil swayed across the paper, screeching against the paper as he scribbled in his notebook.

Dead.

I didn’t even know what that meant. Sure, I understood it, intellectually, but the mutilation I felt I suffered as a result…why hadn’t anyone ever prepared me for that? Was I involved in someone’s sick idea of a joke—dead. Avery’s dead—.

I slid my hands off the table and gathered them in my lap. A pressure built behind my eyes and a scream swelled in the back of my throat.

Why am I even here? Dead. Danny hasn’t asked me for help, even once. Dead. How is he only a freshman when he’s so tall? Dead. He should play basketball. Dead.

“--Is there anything I can help you with?”

The words felt like mush as they poured out of my mouth.

Slowly reclining back, his torso uncurling to straighten his posture, Danny shot me a concerned glance. His knees knocked the underside of the table, his body uncomfortably shifting in the small-fitting uniform.

“Emma, you don’t have to stay any longer if you don’t want to. My mom’s only paying you for the hour.”

Dead—no!

Panic thumped in the center of my chest.

“You have a big exam in a few days. Take the extra help—here, I’ll quiz you.”

My weight pushed the chair back as I reached for his textbook.

“You sure? You’ve really done enough for me today.”

“I promised.”

“Yeah, but after—”

Don’t say it. I just got the word out of my head.

“I _promised_.”

Watching Danny slouch back in his chair in compliance, I felt my muscles loosen a little. His eyes shifted away from me, uneasily, and my panic pulsated painfully in my chest again.

“Come on, you want to pass right?”

I had no idea what made me so adamant. Danny was a completely capable student, and I had no stake in _his_ future.

“And Coach Landon? He has no tolerance for us not keeping up in classes.”

Dead. The word snuck back into my thoughts as I was busy flipping through the pages. Dead. My future. Dead. _Her_ future. Over. Gone. Finished. In the ground.

The corners of my eyes started to blister. I pushed the thoughts away. I didn’t want to think about Avery killing herself, not for no god-damned, apparent reason, _if_ that was what in fact happened.

Danny rolled his eyes at me, “I’m not you Emma. Track star, valedictorian…”

I was not valedictorian. Avery was, or she used to be, until—damn!

“And even if you’re fine, _I’m_ not,” he continued, his words smooth as velvet.

He grabbed the book by its corner and pulled it back to his side.

“Did she do it because she didn’t get into Wilson’s?”

He glanced at me momentarily before the book drew his gaze downward again.

“She never wanted to go to Wilson’s,” I muttered. Despite how smart she was, Avery showed no interest in applying to top-ranked colleges. I had always excused it as an eccentricity. I mean, everyone had to be a little odd in one way or another, right?

Danny exhaled audibly, leaning back in his chair and pushing the front two legs off the ground. I saw his eyelids drop, his lanky arms crossing over his chest.

“I feel bad for her brother. When Ian wasn’t in first period, I figured he must’ve just been sick or something.”

Dead.

It went against everything I thought I knew. Only the unlucky, the unloved, the immoral die. And the one’s who are deranged enough to die by their own hands—they’re the ill, the abused, the victims...

Avery was none of these!

“I had a cousin kill himself awhile back. I didn’t know him well, but it still hurt.”

“Give me your book.”

I made a move to grab it again.

“I can study on my own!” he sneered, his weight falling forward and his arm colliding with the table’s surface as it came between me and his textbook.

Averting my eyes, I pulled my shoulders in and shrunk back into my seat, somewhat startled by Danny’s assertive tone. The ungrateful brat! I didn’t have to be here! –Dead. I had plenty of my own homework, my own business, to take care of. I didn’t have to spend another minute here, if I didn’t want to!

“Why don’t you go home?” He shoved the question at me.

I met Danny’s eyes, with a fierceness of my own. Why, I couldn’t explain. My actions often felt like they occurred without my greater consent, the result of a powerful momentum that had been building for the entirety of my life. I couldn’t stop myself, not even if I wanted to.

...Avery, was it my fault?

I swallowed my tears, terrified of the feeling.

“I’m not gonna be responsible for you failing!” I forced out.

An uneasiness buzzed in the air, silence beginning to fester and cling to the space around us.

Groaning, Danny slid the book towards me, like sending off an air-hockey puck.

“Just make it quick.”

Feeling the flimsy paper between my fingers, a small smile broke onto my face. I shared it with Danny, a silent thank you, and a plea—to not bring up Avery again.

No longer aware of my tears, I began to test him on the material. Everything about the day began to disappear; it had to. My short-term memory wiped clean. Gradually, the pain in my chest diminished and numbed.


End file.
